Page 3 of Missiletoe
It doesn’t bother me half as much as my existence bothers the name-callers.
Well, mostly.
We’ll see who the dumb one is when they’ve got seasonal depression in the middle of winter and I’m still playing with my animals in the snow every day.
Seasonal depression is nothing to sneeze at, by the way. Things don’t get to me easily.
For the most part my mind is clear, and I know exactly who I am. I mean, there is still that ever-present feeling of something missing inside me, but everyone feels that way. Right?
Things are different when the days are short and the weather is gloomy. That’s when the shadows are the strongest and it’s easy for them to gang up on people. If there’s something inside someone that isn’t quite right, it calls out to the shadows and makes you vulnerable. I don’t have much of a problem with it, but the vaguewhateverthat makes me feel off sometimes is always louder in the winter.
I combat the problem by getting outside as much as possible.
It isn’t like I get cold. Due to my size, I tend to run hot, and that day, I was wearing the coat my mom shipped me all the way from Norway. Even though we’re on separate continents, she still makes sure to take care of her kids.
I love that about her. She is a solid, steady presence in my life, always looking out for people and making sure everyone she loves is safe and happy. My sister is the same way. I think it runs in the family.
I can’t think of a better way to live a life.
So there I was, just me and my dog Trixie, having a good snooze under a tree, when a loud crash jerked me from a wonderful dream. In it, I was napping, but with more dogs. There was a person there too, though I didn’t know them. They were just a faceless stranger, but they didn’t feel like a stranger. They felt like home.
Dogs are nice, but people smell better. Usually.
Since there were so many angry voices coming from the direction of the crash, I could tell everyone there already had the situation well in hand, so I let my eyes drift back closed.
I was just starting to slip back into my dream when a warm little body plopped down on me and cuddled right into my side, causing my eyes to pop back open.
He was the cutest little guy I’d ever seen, and he was out like a light.
I made eye contact with Trixie, and she gave me athis is a human problem, man, don’t drag me into itlook.
I shifted to see if it would wake Tiny Dude up, but he gave a little snuffly sound and wiggled until he was burrowed into me as far as he could go.
I could see a touch of shadows drifting around him, but he was so adorable all cuddled up to me that I couldn't bring myself to care. All humans have some amount of shadows surrounding them, so I try not to be prejudiced about it. Tiny Dude had way less than a lot of people I’ve met, but the ones he did have were pretty dark.
Poor little guy.
“Hey, are you okay?” I shook him gently, but he was less responsive than a rock.
See, this is what happens when people don’t get a daily nap. I recommend them to everyone any time I get the chance.
He wasn’t hurting anyone, and I wasn’t done with my nap yet, so he could stay a little while with me, Trixie, and our tree.
I didn’t fall back asleep though. Instead, I watched Tiny Dude sleep. He was just the cutest thing I’d ever seen, and I had a batch of newborn bunnies back at the shelter.
A group of bunnies is called a fluffle, by the way. And that knowledge isn’t half as adorable as what I had lying passed out on top of me.
As I watched him sleep, I realized the poor little guy’s cheeks were bright red from the cold. It was thirty-five degrees out (that’s about 1.6 Celsius for all my non-Fahrenheit friends out there.), and he was only in a light, long-sleeved shirt and cargo pants. He must have been freezing.
Since I couldn’t wake him up, I did what I knew my mom would have wanted me to do. I shifted his limp form and tucked him into my coat to help keep him warm.
My mom probably wouldn’t have petted his head, but I’m my own person, so I added my own flair.
His hair was soft like a bunny too, though a lot of outdoor rabbits don’t usually come in his hair’s reddish-brown color in winter this far north. They are busy turning white.
Trixie gave a soft woof, letting me know it was time to get back to our friends at the shelter. They were all going to want their lunch too.
I gave Tiny Dude another shake, but he didn’t so much as twitch.
